Page 55 of Finding the Pieces

He flashes me a smile, before saying, “I’ll be fine.”

Disappointment floods me, surprising me.

Dom’s not one to change his mind once he commits to something. But I wonder where this might have gone if we decided to try being physical again. I want to know where this would lead.

“Don’t you want better than fine?” I ask.

Don’t you want a better than fine sex life?

Don’t you want a better than fine marriage?

Because I do.

“Ellie,” he says with a sigh. “Really, it’s okay. You don’t have to worry about me.”

I decide on a different approach. We agreed to no sex, but we didn’t say anything about…other things.

Did Dom plan this? Did he know my stupid ass would want what I can’t have just because we agreed not to have it and now I’m in my fucked-up head trying to figure out how to seduce myhusbandand partner ofyears?

Goddamn it, that’s genius.

“I am worried. About you and…about me,” I say. I close my eyes before taking a step back under the spray of the water, trying my best to shut down the voices that scream at me to stop embarrassing myself and that there’s no way anyone could find me attractive like this.

But when I bring one hand to my breast, gripping firmly while trailing the other toward my center, the focused stare Dom lays on me tells me I should shut my own fucking mind up because he’s into this. He’sreallyinto this.

“I miss you,” I say, my voice going a bit breathless as I explore the area surrounding my clit with growing pressure.

“Ellie,” Dom says, voice tortured. He slowly moves his hand to the base of his cock, tugging roughly from base to tip.

“This isn’t sex,” I say. His eyes roam from my hand between my thighs, to the one tugging on my nipple, to my eyes.

“No, it’s not,” he says with a smirk as his eyes darken.

Fuck, yes. I’ve got him.

If there’s one thing my husband likes, it’s a good game.

Chapter twenty-eight

Dom

“Stop,” I say. My dick would punch me right now if that were possible. He was enjoying the lovely show my wife was putting on two seconds ago.

“I want you to listen to me and do as I say,” I murmur with a smile. “And I want you to tell me exactly what you want me to do in return.”

If you’d asked me thirty minutes ago if I would prompt my wife to talk me through masturbating while I did the same for her, I’d say you’re delusional.

I meant it when I said no sex. The end game of all of this is too important to rush. I need this to work and that can’t happen if we do this before she’s ready. But like Ellie said, this isn’t sex.

I’m not perfect, but my wife’s tits are, and they’re the ones in charge of my brain right now.

She lifts her chin, clearly intrigued by my challenge.

“Do you want that, Ellie? Do you want to fall apart under your own hands while you control every move I make?”

Her chest is rising and falling quicker now, in rhythm with my own. I take a step closer to her, careful not to touch her anywhere, but not giving her any more space than that.

“Yes, I want that.”

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